Night Terrors
by Zoe Mae Rae
Summary: Pitch tired of being so- alone, decides to take matters into his own hands and create a new spirit to use as a weapon against the Guardians. Pitch/ OC Reviews are welcome. I love reviews. M for reasons
1. Prolouge

This story is about how I die, twice. There were three of us, in the end. He created me, and then two more when he saw there was a need. We were all condemned, from creation. This will not be a happy story, all will not end well, I can assure you. It will not be happy in the beginning, nor in the middle. For fleeting seconds- maybe. But that may as well be forgotten by you. You, reader, will never feel them as strongly as I did. I have come to terms with the fact that you will never know the depth of my love and pain, only that you will understand my actions. It's okay, reader, I don't blame you.

I won't blame you if you decide that my story is too much, either. It's fine if you want to leave, put this bit down, and away. I won't even be much affected if you forget. Well, you've been warned.

Are you ready? I hope so.

My story starts on a cold night. It was a normal night. I sat alone, in my bed. It was two o'clock and I had the lights on. There was no way I was going to sleep that night, I just couldn't. Insomnia is a burden, and a gift. I was accustomed to just sitting, and waiting for the morning, shaking with fear throughout the night.

All night, I would think about death, and pain. If the house made even the tiniest of creaks, I would be convinced of a ghost. Something, some unexplainable force was out to get me. The lights had to be on, I needed to be able to see. I had this irrational thought that monsters would shrivel up and die in the light.

I guess that's why we found each other.

That night, something happened. For once, it was real, it wasn't just my overactive imagination.

I saw something in the shadows. It was moving, growing, taking the form of a tall, lurking man. He stepped into the center of my room, his palm up, and inside it was a ball of black energy- sand, that was convulsing and taking shape. It was a horse, with wisps of black radiating off of it's body. The man opened his eyes, and my shaking grew harder.

He walked to me nonchalantly at first, but then his head cocked to the side, confused. The horse dissipated and we froze in time, staring at each other.

I was caught, stuck in his eyes- they shone like the moon, silver and clear. Yet, they had hints of gold in them, dying warmth in a grey, barren atmosphere. I couldn't breathe. His eyes were the most beautiful thing i had ever seen. I wanted to stare at them forever, locked in a trance. I wish I could have lived in that moment.

His voice snapped me out of it. "You can see me?" His voice as crisp and firm, with a feathery quality that was not fragility, nor softheartedness, but a weary, tiredness.

I nodded, "Yes. I- I can."

The man sped to my bedside, kneeling down to look at me, straight in the face. I recoiled, frightened. What did this strange man want?

"And," He licked his lips anxiously, waiting a moment, "Do you fear me?"

I nodded again, drawing back, further into the wall behind me and myself. He rolled back onto his heels and laughed deeply, throwing his head back and opening his mouth, stretching his thin, grey lips wide. He shook with laughter- I was afraid he would wake everyone up.

"Please stop!" I squeaked quietly. His face turned to me and he grinned deviously. "You're going to wake them!" I trembled hard, and started to sweat.

His grin faded, and he studied me. "You are the only one." He said matter of factly, standing up solemnly, casting a knowing glare.

"Please, quietly! What are you talking about?" The sound of my parents stirring sends a jolt of fear into my heart. I throw myself down on the bed, cover my head with blankets, leaving a small hole to see out of. The man sinks slowly into the shadows, leaning against the opposite wall. He gazes at me cooly- unreadable.

"You are the only one who can see me." He looks up; out the window, at the moon, and my father bursts into the room.

He's breathing heavily as he storms across the floor. "Who the FUCK are you talking to at this time of night, goddamn it Anne, you better not be hiding a FUCKING BOY under there, you little shit. I swear I'll kill you."

My father grabs the blanket off of me and throws it across the room, ripping it out of my hands. It lands at the shadow man's feet. I catch his eyes and silently plead. _Help me_. He stares back, his gaze unfading, and I know that he has no power over this.

Father is furious when he finds no man in my bed, and checks underneath, and then in my closet, and at the window. Nothing's been touched. "Who were you talking to, you little bitch?" He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my face to his. "Answer me."

"No one," I choke, grabbing my head in an attempt to relieve the pain. He pulls harder.

"You lying freak." He throws me down on the floor and kicks me in the stomach. "Tell the goddamned truth."

"The boogey man." He looks at me stunned, for a moment. He is my father, after all, he knows when I'm lying.

"You really are crazy." He narrows his eyes at me, filing with hate, and I sit up, looking at the dark creature, lurking.

"He's right there," I whine. Suddenly, there's a sharp pain in my cheek. I lay back down as he continues to punch me. I look at the man in the corner again, praying for sympathy, a lifeline, anything, and he looks away from me, ripping his eyes from mine. It's all I can do.

I continue to lie on the floor and just let it happen. It's all I ever do. I close my eyes and go away. I leave my body and become a peck on the wall, watching a girl get beaten. She bleeds from her nose and her eyes darken.

"You are full of shit, you little bastard!" He yells. I cry. My step mom yells from the other room for me to "Suck it the fuck up." She hates me.

Then the lights go out. Without warning, I'm pulled back to my body by a hand grabbing me around my waist and pulling me up. My heart rate accelerates- I can't see anything, I don't know what's going on! I scream at the top of my lungs.

I hear my father yell in confusion and anger, far off from me. The light in my room goes back on, and I'm not in it, but above it, and a mile or so away, and gaining. That is the only thing I can see. I am covered by the darkness, and so frightened.

"Shush, you're safe now." I'm still crying, I realize, and I hush up. Who's voice was that? I look up, and see two grey orbs piercing through the blackness. The man in the shadows saved me! A cold thumb wipes the blood off my face.

He looks away from me, and we speed up. My eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, and by the time they do, we're over the forest. Looking down, I realize what we're riding on, a giant sized horse, just like the one he had held in his hands earlier. It's beautiful, and solid. A majestic dark beast, full of muscle and power.

The man steers the horse down to the ground, and my head and heart are so full of questions. I cannot decide which one to ask first and my mouth hangs open and my brows furrow, waiting for my brain to calculate. We land on the soft ground, and he dismounts. He offers a graceful, pale hand, and pulling me down off of the horse, carefully, he answers my first question before I decide to ask it.

"My name is Pitch Black." The horse gallops away and I'm still clutching to his hand. I let go, and take a step back.

"Where am I? And . . .why?" I look around me, trying to answer the question for myself. The is a wooden, splintered bed frame over a hole in the ground, and trees as far as the eyes can see.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, young one, quiet down. I'll answer your questions soon enough," He says over his shoulder as he walks toward the bed. "Follow me."

I approach tentatively, afraid of the hole, and the vastness of its unknown. He looks back at me, and extends his hand to me again, with a faint smile. It makes his perfect hooked nose wrinkle and widen at the nostrils.

I swallow my anxiety and take it, deciding to trust this man, or thing or whatever- the Boogey Man really was. He saved me, there must be something in him that I can trust.

His hand is slightly rough to the touch and much, much larger than mine. He pulls me close to him as he leaps toward the bed and we fly into the hole, sliding down a tunnel and landing squarely on the ground. We're in a huge cave, with enormous stalactites pointing like sharp, accusing fingers to the ground. Hanging from them are empty cages.

Everything is shadowy and grey. Moonlight faintly illuminates the cavern from the hole way up there. To the right of me, there is a large opening, leading into a large room furnished with a bare table and four chairs. to the left, a small, door sized hole, leading to a bedroom.

"Is this your home?"

"Yes." I jump at the sound of his voice, he is no longer by my side, but sitting at the table, feet up. My feet make a hollow echo as they slap against the hard packed ground. "Not too extravagant, I suppose."

"I like it." I reach the table and take a seat next to him. "Why did you stay? Why did you save me? What are you?"

He laughs softly. "You know what I am: I am the Boogey Man."

"But. . .what are you? Are you human . . . or, a faerie?"

Pitch laughs again, louder. "Oh, my dear, I am **no** faerie. I am an immortal spirit, placed on Earth for . . . I don't know, to cause terror, give all of those good guys a reason to feel good about what they do," His face hardens, and his eyes cloud, remembering pain, "Does that satisfy your curiosity, young one?"

"It's Anne. And yes."

"Alright _Anne_. You had more curiosities?" He crosses and recrosses his feet, and pushes a hand through his spiky black hair, willing it down.

"Why did you save me?" I lean forward, resting an elbow on the rough table.

He sits up, and slouches to meet my eye level. "Every child believes in Santa Clause."

"Yes?"

"Yes." He rolls his eyes. "And the Damned Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Faerie, and the Sandman, and now, even Jack Frost. But no one remembers Fear. No one remembers Pitch Black. I was powerful once, I was feared, I was respected, children and adults could see e with their naked eyes alike- but then _they_ came along and made everyone so _happy_ that they could not remember dear old **Fear.**" His eyes had come alive with some strange, virile power as he spoke, but died as he spat the last word. He blinked a few times, rubbed his face, and leaned back, studying me.

"But I can see you? Why?"

"You believe, you believe in me, fear. You see it every day, you know it. You know me. You are my first believer in. . . so many years-" His words trailed off for a moment, seemingly lost in passion and realization, "And Anne, you are more afraid of mere humans than of me. I had a heart, once, and if it still beat, it would break for you child. That is why I saved you."

"Oh." I sat there, numb and speechless, unable to decide what to think. He lifted himself off of the chair, and disappeared, sensing my need for space.

After a few moments, I get my head in order. "Pitch?" I call out, not knowing where he could be. He materializes in front of me, feeding off of the shadow of the chair.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

He droops, saddened supposedly by my statement. "You should not thank me."

"Why?"

He conjures a horse in his hand, "Not now, Anne, but soon."

The silence surrounds us.

"Anne?"

"Yes?" I perk at the sound of my name, ever human.

"What is your favorite holiday?"

I smile wide, letting all of my teeth peek out of my mouth. "Halloween!"

He smirks my way. "And why is that?"

"You know, I have no idea. I think the hint of something strange and unusual happening is so intriguing. And the costumes, you get to change your person, become some horrifying, fearsome creatur-"

"You are not at all interested in the candy, hm?" He cuts me off.

I giggle. "No! I was never allowed to eat the candy, as a kid anyways, so I don't really think much of it."

"How cruel and unusual." He sneers.

He makes my smile grow wider. "Well I snuck a piece, once. It was some sticky, chewy, caramel thing. Hahah, I hated it. That was the one year I was actually glad to give my candy to my step brothers."

He doesn't think this is as funny as I do.

"You mean to tell me, that you were allowed to collect candy, but you had to donate it to another party?" He give me an incredulous look.

"Yes."

"I should have stolen you away sooner. "

I laugh at him "Thanks."

"What was your favorite costume?"

"I was a witch once. I got so into character, I felt so alive, so evil, so powerful."

His face grows cold and dark, shadows covering his features. "You enjoyed that feeling?"

Breathing in deeply, I remember it, feeling taller than the gods, mightier than the elements, basking in the cold air. "Yes," I exhale. "For once, it didn't matter how lonely I felt."

Pitch's eyes glow in the dark, piecing into me. "Maybe you are more ready than I thought you were, hm? How would you like to see my magic work?"

I nod, eyes wide, and excited.

"I stole this sand from the Sand Man, to make nightmares with, years back." He makes it float in his palm, dancing with an unknown current, flirtatiously. " He wasn't realizing it's full potential."

"Mmhhm." I nod my head, again, consumed with curiosity.

"It can create the most wonderful horrors, it interacts with my powers. I can realize a person's deepest fear. This corrupted sand, it can be used to sculpt it, make them even more real." He manipulates the sand in my direction, making it swirl around me. A girl is formed, and nothing else. She looks around, appears to call out, and falls to the ground defeated. _No one is there._

Advancing on me, with his hands clasped behind his back, he says "You know, we're similar, you and I. Neither of us want to be alone." He does not smirk, or smile, nor joke. My heart beats wildly as he steps close to me, looming over me as I sit in my chair, powerless. He place a hand on either side of me, leaning on the armrests, trapping me in. "I wish it did not have to be this way," He coos, trailing a finger along my jaw. "I'm almost sorry."

The sand snakes up my arms, slithering over my shoulders and around my throat. It tightens, and I start to choke. He stares into my eyes, peering into my soul, sadistically watching me die. My mouth opens, and gargling sounds escape from my throat as my body struggles for air. The sand crawls into my mouth, turning into mud, pouring down my throat. The last of it leaves my neck , and he's slowly wrapped his hands around my throat.

His brows race downward, furrowing, and his teeth gnash together. He sneers so nastily. "Don't fight it Anne." Pitch's grip tightens around my throat, causing the blood to pour out of my nose.

Black spots flash in my vision, and my vision clouds over- I see the sand, it becomes me, covering my sight. I start to lose feeling in my extremities. I close my eyes, and give in to death.

"Good girl." He kisses my forehead. "Now neither of us will have to be alone."

**The kiss sends a spark down my nose, through my spine, and to my feet. Then, reader, I die for the first time.**


	2. Expergiscendum

**Hi everyone! So sorry this chapter took so long to complete. School is time consuming, but I've got 4 days of it left {****_YAY_****!} So, you know, expect more sooner! {Ok, but not ****_super_**** soon, I am kind of a perfectionist...}**

**Thanks bunches to defying gravity10, NIGHTSCREAM, READandWRITE11, Berry, somekindofzombie, AnonymousAngel, and Guest(s) for the reviews!3**

I wake up anew, a fresh slate, blank as white paper. I'm cold . . . and it's dark, and I'm in pain. My neck is sore, and my throat stings terribly. It feels sandy and rough. I open my eyes, and can see nothing but darkness, all around me. It scares me. There's a thin stream of moonlight that pushes through the top of what appears to be a cave. I'm lying on the ground, and I can hear someone moving around, close to me.

I sit up and realize as my eyes adjust, that I'm on top of a table. On my body there is a thin black dress, with a square neckline, and sleeves that travel to my creamy white elbows. Where am I, who am I- I think to myself. I bite my bottom lip, as a wave of hunger washes over my body and tears at my brain. My fear mounts as I hear someone come closer. I can hardly see two feet in front of me- the moonlight only helps so much. What am I to do, Reader? I know nothing.

The person takes their time, each footfall louder and louder than the next. They're so close now, I should be able to hear them breathing- but I don't. My heart began to beat so hard that it felt like it would burst at any second. Closer and closer it stepped, never quickening, never slowing down. The cave was swathed in the sound of feet.

Then- with the aid of the moon, I saw him. Specifically, two beaming orbs of silver, like starlight, possessing me on the spot. I forget my hunger and pain, for a moment, and only remember my fear. What is this creature of two eyes and infinite darkness? What does it want?

It forms before me, as it is close enough to reach out and touch; a tall, beautiful man, made out of darkness and marble, eyeing me with such poise. His face is narrow and sculpted, with cheekbones that arch like an old cathedral, and a flat, hooked nose. His hair is sleek and black, with grey strands here and there.

I smell something on him, something dark and not before experienced by my senses. It makes my hunger flare; clouding my mind and making me weak at the joints. I want to eat, I want to feed, whatever that is that I smell, and I must have it.

He smiles at me, exposing dagger- like teeth. "Hullo, Pavor."

_Who is Pavor?_ I look at him, confused.

"I'm hungry." I manage to say. My voice is hoarse and raspy. It would be nice to have a drink, as well.

"Ah, little one," he smoothes my hair down, "Patience, you will get your fill soon enough." His eyes are soft, and knowing.

He pulls me off of the table, standing me up, and a strong arm under each of mine, to prevent me from falling. How did he know my knees would buckle under my weight for the first time?

I struggle for a moment, wiggling around, trying to get my knees to lock. He chuckles softly at my determination and I find my balance with a growl.

Suddenly, I realize a feeling of curiosity. What is going on? Who are we, where are we, and why? I look onto his face, searching for purpose, voicing my concern: "Who are you. Who am I?"

The man lets go of my arms, and I waver unsteadily. He disappears into the shadows and I am alone. What did I do wrong? Did I disappoint him?

"All of your questions will be answered shortly, Pavor." I guess I'm Pavor. That's one question answered.

He reappears behind me, startling me as he places a large black cloak around my shoulders. He reaches around me, fastening it in place with his smooth, cool, grey hands, and then grabs me around the waist.

Soon, we're mounting the most amazing creature I have ever seen- well, so far. A large, black horse, that's terrifying beyond belief. It's constructed of flowing black sand, held together by some phantom wind. Even more amazing- it flies! We rise up in the air, supported by this miraculous beast, soaring away.

We leave what looks like a forest, and fly over a small town. The best brings us closer to the ground and my hunger fires up, going berserk. I smell something in the night air, something that wafts through the dark, velvet sky and tantalizes me. I lean over the side of the horse, yearning to be closer to it, to taste it.

The man chuckles and pulls me back up. "Child, calm down. You shall be sated in a moment. That is if you can wait."

He leans forward and the horse barrels down to the nearby houses. The smell grows stronger- it's maddening. The man grabs me by the waist and we fall towards a window. I cringe, we're going to hit the closed window- but instead, much to my shock we glide right through. I feel as if I may die of hunger now, the smell, no, the stench is so strong. It fills my nostrils and lungs and I can hardly do anything other than breathe.

We're in a bedroom, and it looks like it belongs to a young male. The walls are lined with sport themed paper and posters of athletes. The bed is covered by twisted blue comforter, and underneath is a small boy. He dreams fitfully, face contorted. Strangely enough, above his head, there is a cloud of black sand above his brown head. It's the same sand that the man uses. It is the very same stuff that the horses are formed out of.

The sand is calling to me- I realize the child is having a nightmare. The sand convulses, much like a lava lamp, every so often producing recognizable shapes. There's a bear, and a boy- him I presume. The bear is chasing him, they're kept in limbo, the bear is just close enough to the boy to catch him, but he misses at every grab. The child is frightened- that's what's causing that heavenly aroma. It's beautiful.

I reach out to touch it and the man chuckles lightly. The sand does not move away, but swirls around my finger and up my arm, playfully. The bear runs after the child up and down my arm, and my hunger grows even stronger. I look at the man, confused. He is smiling knowingly at me as he slowly speaks.

"Hungry, yes?" I nod briskly at his inquiry. The bear and boy are in my hand now, running in circles. The man steps forward, taking them into his own hands. He transforms the bear, making it huge and muscular. He puts them back in my hands."What can you do?"

I wave my hand over the bear, giving it horrible knives for nails, which scratch the boy when he grabs for him. Black smoke begins to rise from the nightmare, and I let it return to the boy. I feel faint now as I collect the smoke, grabbing it like you would grab a silk scarf. I had no knowledge that I could do this, I'm functioning on auto- pilot. "Good." The man coos, sliding his hands onto my shoulders and leaning over me.

The soft smoke pools into my hands when I have extracted the last of it. My mouth waters and I hold my hands up, pouring it in between my lips. My eyes flutter closed, the smoke is so sweet and cool. As I drink it in, it soothes my aching throat. I swallow it quickly, and gasp for air. I want more, I need more. The man squeezes my shoulders. "Come," He says, "we must leave here now." I let him lead me out, and when we reach the window, I glance back at the child and the nightmare. Something is different about him, something wrong.

I am jerked forward roughly, and we step out into the cool night.


End file.
